


Multiverse Heartburn

by Teddy_Feathers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Height Differences, Love at First Sight, Multi, Multiverse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strange Magic back ground plot, Tumblr Prompt, interconected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy_Feathers/pseuds/Teddy_Feathers
Summary: Wanted some Multiverse ship prompts and some folks obliged.Feel free to prompt more.Guess who figured out just because no ones reading these doesn't mean you can stop me from writing them.





	1. Up to No Good (Edge/Stretch)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @Moss-Flowers-Trees on tumblr 
> 
> [Underswap Papyrus x Underfell Papyrus who is taller. My little sister and I are the exact same height (according to me, she swears she’s taller) and this is the subject of some debate.]

Now it was well known that across the multiverse there was no Papyrus lazier than Stretch. After all, most took him as nothing more than a 'swapped' personality of Classic Sans and his brother.

That was their - a collective term here referring in a general way to the entirety of the multiverse and all of the alternates - first mistake.

Because a swapped Papyrus was still a Papyrus and all Papyri enjoyed a good jape.

Their second mistake was, as always, underestimating his brother.

Blue was a Sans in the way Stretch was a Papyrus, and from day one had resented being underestimated. Credit where its due, no one could do shenanigans like a Sans, especially his brother. It was as admirable as it was terrifying.

The last was more of a fortuitous boon, luck if one really wanted to be so crass, then a mistake on anyone's part and that was no one spoiled the fun.

So to set the stage, to really understand just how priceless the current situation of a nightmare carnival mirror image of him in his face and frothing in rage, you have to go back to the beginning.

Not the very beginning - though any good story should perhaps start there - for the sake of time, argument, and a joke that will only grow stale for having had to wait to hear it, let it be assumed for the moment that Stretch is the center of the universe the second he and his brother stumble into a room full of strikingly unfamiliar faces in some sort of bizarre mirror maze of 'what ifs' and 'could have beens'.

Papyrus - one of many now? Well always _apparently._ \- zones out, empty sockets not giving away his unfocused attention as Not His Brother sans, reluctantly and with much prodding from a much more handsome and friendly reflection Papyrus, explains something about Universal Causality. What homeowners insurance had to do with this bowl of Flowey Flakes they found themselves in he missed, but eventually someone had pointed out that they couldn't all share the same name without even the most friendly of them wanting to dust the others like some bad Highlander reboot.

His brother, Blue now - cleverly claiming the Sans favorite color as his own - nudges him from a lovely little daydream where this wasn't happening back into the existential nightmare that was the current universe, and Papyrus folds his fingers together and lifts them above his head tilting this way with that until his back pops. This is met with disgusted looks from many faces around the room - most of them his own - and he slumps back comfortably into his hoodie. "guess I'll go by stretch."

Several voices protest of course, because life from now on was going to be lived by committee.

"Well That is certainly... unique Orange Me." Says Putting a Positive Spin on This With All His Might Papyrus - or Creampuff as he'd agreeably allowed Edgelord Papyrus to dub him.

"It is Ridiculous is what it Is." Protests the version of his brother that had wandered into a Hot Topic and never left. "It doesn't Fit with the Already Established naming convention!"

It was times like this that he - The Papyrus who was going by Stretch for Spite now - was glad he had never bothered with the magic expenditure that was eyelights. Meant no one could see him roll his eyes.

There was no Convention - no real pattern for the group as a whole or even just through the pairs. Classic - named such for his outdated old man jokes no doubt - seems to notice all the same and huffs out a laugh. "gotta say buddy, kinda agree - name like that seems like a _stretch_."

Liking puns was the first and worst unifying thread he had noticed for the Sans and he had to say, he hated it with a burning passion that'd make Undyne proud.

Blue looks as cross as Stretch felt, but it would take someone who knew him well to see it. He grabs onto Stretch's arm in a show of support and asks "Brother, why did you choose such a Unique name?" The way he says unique stands in tonal counterpoint to how Creampuff had said it, and Stretch grins down at his older brother, discarding the first three responses that come to mind.

No need to make his brother worry, or get labeled as the Depressing Papyrus right out the door - even if none of this _did_ matter. "'cause bro, i'm the tallest one here."

Of course his brother immediately catches on, lights going to stars in a way that brightens his expression both figuratively and literally. "Nyeh heh heh of Course! How very Astute of you Stretch!"

Immediately several voices raise in protest, and boy did his own voice sound worse when amplified and played back a half dozen times, but it was worth it when Blue cuts across the din to add with sly earnestness "I knew My brother was the Coolest!"

This of course started a whole _new_ argument that derailed the last, and the rest should have been history.

But of course some part of him just couldn't let it go.

A universal constant for Papyri apparently was a vicious strain of competitiveness. And while Stretch could have let the jape die, it was nice to have something - no matter how fake - to lord over the other Oh So Talented versions of himself.

Literally in some cases.

Creampuff, if not a Perfect host, was unfailing in his attempts to fulfill that responsibility while the whole living arrangement situation was dealt with. The Stepford act was just so aggravating that Stretch _had_ to get back at him somehow. So when Stretch's insomnia got the better of him he'd inevitably pop into the kitchen just to grab something off the top shelf for his better mirror's ungodly hours Breakfast Prep.

This was particularly satisfying as Creampuff apparently put everything up on the very top shelves and with the whole lot of them living there, something inevitably ended up pushed to the very back that he just Had to have. It was child's play - minus the murderer possessed doll - to time things so that Stretch's arm could slip over Creampuff's and pull down the item before he had a chance to grab it.

Add that to some casual comment about the perks of being tall and...

It was inevitable that Mister I Eat Knives for Breakfast because I Like the Taste of Danger in the Morning would catch wind of the ongoing shenanigans. And unlike Creampuff who tried hard and was generally likable despite his Arrogance - another trait shared by those who shared his face - Edgelord didn't have a redeeming bone in his body. Made him insufferable... and a particularity sweet target for tomfoolery.

So when at some dinner or another, that they all agreed to gather for on occasion after they'd gotten their own places, Edge once more started in about how obviously he was the Superior Specimen of the Skeleton Species, well Stretch wasn't going to take that lying down.

Or, well, he _was_ laying on the Fell (the call sign they'd voted on for that universe) Bro's couch. But he had lifted his hand and said in a deliberately matter of fact dry tone, "Not the tallest though."

It was like he had murdered their damn cat (who was a friendly surface beasty... if you didn't mind being considered a scratching post).

Edge sputtered in rage and had dragged him upright by force, while Stretch uncooperative hung heavily like a rag doll in his unphased grip.

If Creampuff was the Handsome Papyus, then Edge was the Strong Papyrus, it would have been easy to hate him just for that if he didn't so obligingly make himself as Unlikable as Monsterly Possible. Of course with a little expended magic to give his brother the Babybones Look that Worked Every Time, and Blue's quick intervention with a bubble level and a bit of slight of hand - the fight was diverted and the Japery continued unchecked.

Perhaps the most agreeable of the versions that had clowned their way out of the Multiverse Machine that day was the one that went by Mutt.

Agreeable in the sense he kept his head down, mouth shut, and kept away from all of them. That could be because his brother was annoying enough for the both of them, but Stretch thought an argument could be made that Mutt didn't consider himself a Papyrus at all - he'd already had the moniker long before this Papyrus Pageant had begun afterall.

Black combined the Worst of Stretch's brother and the Best - if that quality could even be ascribed to him - of Edge. A _menace_ of a monster who honestly came across as the smallest of the Sans in a more convincing way than Stretch was the tallest of the Papyri... Not that anyone had dared mention it to him of course.

Stretch was saving the observation for a special occasion.

For whatever reason the Tiny Tyrant had taken an exception to the idea that he was just the evil twin of Blue and went out of his way to be exceptionally petty about finding ways to make himself out to be the better version of Stretch's older brother.

Honestly it was a bother and Stretch tried to stay out if it since Blue _obviously_ could take care of himself, but for whatever reason Black seemed to take Stretch's height as a challenge as much as any Papyrus... With the sole exception of Mutt.

Trying to recreate the circumstances of Edge's measuring contest between the Stretch and his own brother during a holiday social backfired spectacularly though. Mutt had only curled even more into himself and Stretch - more than a little tipsy at the time - actually challenged Mutt to see who could _slump_ the most instead.

Mutt had shrunk so fast into his coat that his skull had almost vanished amidst the fluff like a turtle, and Stretch had laughingly declared him the victor, pleasing Black and being the last time for years that anyone bothered with Stretch's height.

So now onto the present situation.

Edge had been _so_ pleased when he ambushed him and his brother in the grocery store, smug about his six inch heeled boots and his mastery thereof, dying to show up Blue -nwho also had an insatiable love of the damn feet death traps. When Edge had turned to ice his cake by pointing out that with these he could be the tallest of the Papyri...

That annoying smirk was whipped clean off as he met sockets - exactly level - with Stretch who didn't do more then grin back because _this_ was the joke of the lifetime.

"How!" He chokes, the sweetest music to hear.

Stretch leans in even closer to whisper conspiratorially "I'm standing up straight."

This only makes Edge froth with rage and stomp off without ever noticing that Stretch had been standing on a divider on the floor giving him a physical lift along with the rise to his spirits when Edge's dropped like a man into a river with cement shoes.

Blue laughs, mood doing a 180 as quickly as Edge's. "You should have told him the Truth Stretch!"

"Mmm?" He hums curiously, moving to drape himself back atop the already half full cart. The other versions of himself were fun to get the goat of but they were exhausting even in small doses. "What that this place's floor is poorly designed? Because he was being insufferable and deserved the twist."

" _No_ ," His older brother says in an insufferable tone of his own - oh no, not one of his 'great' jokes. Those were the worst. "That the reason you're always going to be taller than the others is that you're always _Up to No Good_!"

Stretch groans and covers his skull with his arms, pushing the cart away with more vigor than he'd shown anything all day. "Title drops are the _height_ of bad comedy." He protests.

But of course that only makes Blue laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously this doesn't fulfill the prompt exactly and doesn't ship but this also isn't where this ends so expect another installment eventually.


	2. First Sight (Underfell Asgore/Underswap Toriel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @Mischief-Rei on tumblr
> 
> [Underfell Asgore/ Swap Toriel + love at first sight] 
> 
> In which I play semantics with what first sight actually means.

There was a whole to do - the way there often is when one is royalty amongst magical beings.

And in fact, like much in that burdensome life of wearing the crown, the brunt of it was dealt with by someone else. Something to do with a love potion, and a misunderstanding. Some trial nonsense that almost started a war of the worlds… Or well, _timelines_ in this case.

… But this story is not about that.

This story belongs to a Prideful King and an Arrogant Queen.

The former of which having imprisoned the latter for reasons relating to the business with the love potion currently plaguing his timeline.

He had been angry when she had first come along with her delegation and in retrospect it had gotten out of hand. Quickly escalating with the two of them yelling, faces mere inches away, and ending when he had ordered the Queen of the other timeline imprisoned. A guarantee she had agreed to as a sign of cooperation until her people found an antidote for the poison being spread across his land.

Asgore, now that he had time to cool his temper, could admit that perhaps he had been hasty. But then, no one ever got under his skin like…

“Madame Toriel,” He begins, tray carried before him into the room as a peace offering.

Of _course_ she immediately cuts him off.

“Queen Dreemurr.” She states icily from where she stood straight backed, by the window gazing out at his city. “I am _not_ your ex.”

He grinds his teeth for a moment, setting down the tray on the small table between them. He was _attempting_ some semblance of civility - it would be nice if she could only find it in her frigged bitch soul to do the same!

Asgore shakes himself, huffing out the anger before pouring the tea first in one cup and then the other - knowing _he_ at least would not touch something the other had offered without it being shared between them. Especially given the ridiculous nature of the current goings on.

“Why _did_ you keep your husband’s name after the split? To give some taste of legitimacy to your take over?”

She looks away from the window then, just to give him that look that _they_ all share. Despite his own divorce he has had plenty of time to inure himself from its effects, and he simply takes his own glass and sips from it.

A more fragrant blend than he usually prepares, but as king he is allowed his minor acts of pettiness.

T- _Queen Dreemurr_ hasn’t lost one bit of her dignity despite her imprisonment, and finally sniffs daintily, moving to take the cup he had prepared for her.

Her expression doesn’t change as she lifts it to her lips, first smelling and then tasting the brew, but her tone, while less harsh, is no less cutting when she finally deigns to reply with a smile as sharp as any attack. “Oh Gorey, if you want to get my _goat_ you will have to try a lot harder than this.”

His lip curls back into an involuntary snarl. “Mind your tongue or I’ll have it removed!” He snaps. “I am also not _your_ ex.”

Of course _this_ one would also have a fascination with insipid wordplay.

She takes another sip and seems much more unmoved by his anger than she had in his throne room.

There’s a pause before answering, just long enough for it to grate at him, but before he could demand reply she does so with infuriatingly well placed timing. “ _Gorey_ is not what I call my ex, or any of the other Asgores. It is just an appropriate designation of the most violent line’s king.”

Queen Toriel sets down her now empty cup and lifts her chin proudly. “Really it is a surprise any of _you_ have lasted this long in the role. My husband had no spine for the position and you no competence - as evidenced by the sheer amount of LOVE present in your people’s _remaining_ population.”

Asgore’s own mug shatters in his hand but he pays no mind to the shards of ceramic digging into his clenched pads as he rests both fists on the table in front of him causing it to squeak and then groan under his weight.

He leans forward, growling out in a low and dangerous voice “As if your hands are clean _Queen_ Dreemurr - there are eight graves in your castle. Same. As. Mine.”

The icy facade shatters and she slams her hands down on the table across from him, making the remaining teacup and pot rattle in their tray, cold dark eyes now filled with passion. “I am queen, I do what is _necessary_ for my people! Do not presume to understand-”

“Exactly!” Asgore bellows back.

… and to his surprise it silences her tirade.

They stare at one another, breathing heavily with their anger, eyes searching one another's and finding recognition there.

Understanding.

Mutual and quiet they see each other for the first time.

Asgore’s soul tightens but she’s the first to look away. Queen Dreemurr pushes away from the table and crosses her arms, moving back to her place by the window. “I thank you for the tea and the company.”

It was soft, but no less dismissive.

Asgore found himself strangely calm now as he straightens himself, tucking both injured and uninjured hands behind him as he clears his throat. “Yes, well. I shall be by periodically to updating you on the scientists’ progress and that of my guard.”

It wasn’t a question but she nods. “That would be agreeable…. King Dreemurr.”

He gives a polite half bow, and hesitates. “Gorey does seem appealing… given the alternatives.”

She does look at him then, and the smile she gives him is one he _hasn’t_ seen before. “Poor King Fluffybuns.”

“Indeed.” He replies, with an exaggerated shudder before turning to go only to pause once more at the door to the cell. “Do you require anything else for you stay… Queeny?”

It sounds uncomfortable and false, both the question and the name but she merely shakes her head and does not comment on it - which is probably as much approval as he could ask for given what worse names his uncreative mind could have devised. “I am hoping we will rectify this situation in short order.”

He nods in agreement and finally does leave, missing the disbelieving shake of her head and soft laugh behind him.

The sooner this is over the sooner peace will be restored… And perhaps it will be filled with the same sort of new understanding that the rulers had formed between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile back on the ranch...
> 
> So yeah the skeletons all got shoved into one universe - surface post pacifist Undertale - which... really doesn't change anything for any of the timelines really- except the rips in the space time continuum allowing such fun shenanigans as SwapUndyne's love potion getting into the wrong faces all across the Fell lands.


End file.
